


Gas-n-Sip

by eratothemuse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, NSFW, Oral, Oral Sex, Smut, not safe for work, teeny tiny bit of super minor angst, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 01:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16609520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratothemuse/pseuds/eratothemuse
Summary: You just needed a job. Who knew that getting one at your local Gas-n-Sip would end up like this? (Set in 9x06 “Heaven Can’t Wait”)





	Gas-n-Sip

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, because Steve!Cas holds a special place in my heart? And he deserves better than he gets? This is my first time writing smut for Castiel, so feedback is encouraged and much appreciated!!  
> \- Meg <3 xx

You leaned over the counter to hand the customer her bag, “Thank you, ma’am. Have a nice evening and come back and see us.” The elderly woman smiles and leaves, the door to the Gas-n-Sip ringing with her departure thanks to the bell attached there. You sigh, looking around the store before your eyes settle on the man changing the cylindrical, fluorescent light bulb in the back. You lean slightly on the counter, trying your best not to outright stare at him. Working as a sales associate at the Gas-n-Sip wasn’t glamorous by any stretch of the imagination, but it did have its perks. Namely, Steve Novak. When you first applied for this job, you had no idea your coworker would look like that man did.

He alternated the same three outfits every week, but that didn’t take anything away from how utterly attractive he was. His dark hair was short upon his head, almost in a business-man sort of way. He didn’t part it, but rather looked as if he did his best to push it to a somewhat presentable style with his brush each morning. Just enough stubble traced his jaw, framed his lips, and trailed down his neck to give him a slightly disheveled appearance regardless of what he was wearing. He was almost the very definition of ruggedly handsome.

The rich blue vest that you would have sworn would look horrific on anyone somehow looked alright hugging his shoulders. He had blue eyes to match it, which, depending on the lighting could look darker or lighter, as you’d come to notice. With the way he was reaching for the light in the ceiling right now, the edge of his shirt rode up on his left side, exposing just the right amount of skin drive your mind wild. And his height--- you shouldn’t even get started on that, or you’d be standing here daydreaming all day.

What? You didn’t have a whole lot of other eye-candy coming through the Gas-n-Sip everyday and, even if you did, you doubt that most men could hold a candle to Steve. To say you had it bad for the guy would be an understatement. When he wasn’t being the perfect coworker, he was being pretty good company to be around. A great listener, for sure, considering the amount of time you had spent rambling on about all sorts of topics to him, but he rarely gave up too much about himself. Over the last two months of you working here, you really hadn’t learned all that much about him, but you doubted the mysterious air he carried was purposeful.

You lose track of the time you had spent gawking at him and he looks at you under the weight of your stare, causing you to straighten up from your lean on the counter and avert your eyes awkwardly. Somehow, he either completely misses the fact that you’d been checking him out, or at least doesn’t give on that he knew, instead calling to you with curiosity.

“Are you in need of my assistance, (Y/N)?” you have half a mind to make up something just to get him to come over to where you were standing, but you keep your more capricious thoughts under control with a shake of your head.

“Uh, no, thank you, Steve,” you clear your throat, reaching for the gum packets to straighten them in an attempt to seem as if you had definitely not just been looking at Steve like you were. “How’s that bulb coming? That’s the second time today it shot.”

“I believe it will sustain a suitable current for lighting this area from now on,” he responds, looking back up to the ceiling as he finishes snapping the long bulb in place. The way he talked was always efficient and somewhat out of touch with how you would expect someone of his age to speak, but caused a small smile to grace your features. You found it endearing at best and, at worst, quirky. Sparing a glance back in his direction, you try to keep your eyes from focusing on just how kissable his neck looked in the elongated position it took for him to look directly overhead as he placed the finishing touches on his work.

Tearing your eyes away, you mentally scold yourself for ogling him.

“I’m heading out,” you turn your head just in time to spot Nora removing her manager’s vest and hooking it on the rack behind you. Of course she was leaving earlier than she was supposed to; you all had the night shift off tonight. You try not to mentally scoff at that, knowing there was little you could do since she was the manager. She looks past you to address Steve, “I can trust you to handle the end-of-shift inventory, Steve?”

“Leave it to me,” he gives a curt nod, as if set on a mission by your manager.

You try not to throw up in your mouth a little when Nora shoots him a flirtatious wink, “What would I do without you, Steve?” He seems to still be trying to find a proper way to respond to the rhetoric when she heads out the door, the bell ringing at her exit. You try to ignore the jealous twinge in your chest at how she talks to Steve, as well as how his gaze lingered on her exit. You knew better than to think she was actually into him, but he seemed to hang on her every word in more than just an employee sort of way.

With a sigh you address him with the question that had been eating at you all day, “So, who was that guy who came in today, _Cas_?” You notice him tense up for a moment as his eyes shoot to yours, sapphire daggers in a momentary panic before you continue with a nosy grin, “That like a childhood nickname of yours or something?”

Steve looks back to the light, putting the finishing touches on his work when he answers, “Or something. He was just someone I knew. I, um, didn’t realize you had noticed him.”

“Well, I tend to notice the pretty ones--- like you,” you tease him, not missing the slight pinkish tint that brought to his cheeks, “I’ve never heard that name before.” You test it out again, letting the name flick from your tongue tentatively, “ _Cas_ , huh? It’s cool.”

“I don’t use it anymore,” he corrects, “I’m just Steve, now.” There’s something akin to regret in his voice, but maybe you were just imagining that. Part of you is a little disappointed he didn’t still use the nickname, feeling as if it somehow fit him much better than ‘Steve’ did.

Brushing it off, you joke, “Well, it’s better than some of my childhood nicknames. Kids, man, they can be cruel.” He looks concerned for a moment before he notices your lighthearted smile, mirroring you with a smile of his own as he begins to step down from the ladder.

With ease, he changes the subject, “What is the time?”

Looking at the clock on your phone, you answer him, “About a quarter past nine, looks like we’ve got about thirty minutes before shift change.” You instantly begin the normal routine--- cleaning down the counters, sweeping the floors, emptying or refrigerating the proper food items that weren’t sold during the overnight shift--- the list went on. Steve headed to the register to check the amounts like he did every night before assisting you in the other duties that came with shift change.

One last customer straggled in right before the night shift associates came on, busying Steve and keeping him from taking inventory as he cashed her out. Clipboard in hand, you head towards the storage room, intent on helping him out by starting the inventory check, a job he always insisted on doing and was required before leaving a shift at the Gas-n-Sip.

“Have a good night, ma’am, and good luck!” Steve’s voice carries, deep and raspy, into the inventory room. Your lips quirk upwards, almost able to picture the thumbs-up he’s giving the woman before she leaves--- an adorable habit he’d gotten into when it came to selling lotto tickets. You had already made it to the cigarettes before the tap of his shoes on the tile comes through the doorway.

“You do not need to spend extra time doing this. I’m the sales associate assigned this task,” Steve states, causing you to glance up from where you were sat cross-legged on the floor counting the cigarette boxes. You finish your count before answering him, so that you don’t lose your place.

“Well, if I help out, you won’t have to stay as late,” you smile up at him, but his brow furrows. Glancing to his shirt to avoid his gaze, you add, hoping your voice doesn’t sound too nervous, “Plus, I, uh, was wondering if you wanted to hit the Waffle House with me after we get off?”

“Oh,” Steve begins, drawing your eyes back up to his, and your heart drops at the look in them, a clear sign of his answer, “Thank you for the offer, but I am expected to meet Nora tonight at her home.”

“Oh, okay,” it comes immediately from you as you try to brush off the disappointment, hoping it doesn’t show through as your gaze snaps back to your clipboard. “That’s great,” it didn’t sound any more convincing than you thought it did, but you force a smile anyway, trying to be supportive. “Hey, in that case, leave inventory to me and go and have a great time with… Nora!”

“I can’t let you---”

You cut him off, really wishing he wasn’t standing in the storage room, so close to you, after knowing that he was going out on what sounded like a date with your manager, “No, it’s fine, Steve. For real. I’m already, like, halfway done with this list, anyway. Just go! I’ll take care of it.”

“If you’re sure,” you can’t look at him, already knowing he’d have that same concerned look he always seemed to have when you offered to cover something for him. It would be enough to have you forgiving the fact that Nora had beat you to the punch in an instant and you didn’t really want to let go of your self-pity at one simple look from him.

“I’m positive! Go have fun.”

“Very well,” he begins slowly, somewhat unsure if he should leave you with the inventory list, even after your assurances. His voice sounds as genuine as ever when he murmurs, “Thank you. Have a good night.”

“Night, Steve,” you mumble, engrossing yourself in counting the next stack of shelves. He lingers a bit behind you before exiting the storage room. Almost immediately, you let the disappointment affect you visibly, certain a deep scowl had etched itself into your forehead. Of course he had gone for Nora. She was beautiful, that’s for certain, and working as hard as she did while being a single mom was undeniably admirable.

Part of you just couldn’t believe they were going on a date, though. Maybe you’d pegged her wrong. Perhaps all of her flirting hadn’t been as lighthearted and harmless as you’d insisted for your own sake. Spiraling into your own dark hole of jealousy and self-doubt, you finish up the list.

Taking a breath, you huff lowly, setting your jaw determinedly, “Screw it, I’ll go to Waffle House by myself and have a great time.”

You were nursing your third cup of coffee when your phone rang. Reaching to pick it up beside your nearly-empty plate, you’re surprised to see _Steve Novak_ written across the screen in familiar white lettering. Steve rarely called you, most of the time it was you who wound up texting him, asking where things were around the Gas-n-Sip if he was off work or if he’d cover your shift occasionally, since you knew he needed the extra cash. For an instant, you hate the fact that you almost immediately pick it up. Desperation did not look good on you and you certainly weren’t about to be _that girl_ who pined after a guy who didn’t want her.

After a few more seconds of letting it ring and attracting the annoyed attention of the few other customers at the Waffle House this late, you give in and answer it, bringing the phone to your ear slowly, “Steve?”

_“Hello, (Y/N)? I’m sorry to call you so late,”_ a glance to the clock on the wall has you realizing that it was, in fact, much later than you thought. You must have lost track of time pitying yourself over your toast, because it was already nearly one in the morning. Steve’s gruff voice continues through your phone’s speaker, _“but would you mind picking me up at Nora’s?”_

“What?” your nose wrinkles in confusion and slight offense. He wanted you to pick him up after he went on a date with her? At one in the morning?

_“She left me to babysit and just returned from her date, and I, uh, need to pick up something at the Gas-N-Sip before I go home, but I don’t have a car to get there,”_ it’s then that you notice how downtrodden and dejected his voice sounded and, suddenly, you begin putting two-and-two together. The way his voice lowers pitifully nearly breaks your heart when he says, _“You are the only person I can think to call.”_

“Wait--- Nora invited you over to babysit?” you can’t keep yourself from blurting, “I thought you were going on a date with her!”

There’s a pause before, slowly, Steve remarks, _“I must have misunderstood her invitation.”_

Oh, shit. She really just pulled that on him, huh? Conned the poor guy into coming over and dumped her kid on him. That’s cold, even for Nora.

Slapping down ten dollars to pay for your food and tip, you assure him, “Don’t worry, Steve, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just text me the address.”

By the time you got to Nora’s home your blood was boiling and, upon spotting him waiting outside on the sidewalk with his hands seated in the pockets of his jeans, you had half a mind to march inside and give her a piece of your mind since you knew Steve was too nice to call her out. You think better of it when he comes to the passenger side door of your car, deciding that losing your job was not something you wanted to achieve tonight.

Calling out to him through the rolled-down window, you take notice of the white button-up he was wearing and the uncharacteristic top buttons that were undone, your stomach twisting as you realize he had probably dressed up just to wind up babysitting, “Hey, Steve. Hop on in.”

“Thank you for coming to pick me up,” he begins, shuffling into the passenger seat of your car and clicking the seat belt into place.

“It’s okay. I just can’t believe Nora pulled a slick one on you like that,” you grit your teeth as you pull off, annoyance evident in your tone. “That’s just really sorry of her to lead you on like that.”

He stays silent for a moment and you glance over to him, noticing he seemed hyper focused on his hands in his lap, “I’m sorry you had to come pick me up so late, and after you covered my inventory, too.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about that. It’s fine, really. I’m just sorry your date wasn’t a date,” surprisingly, it was actually the truth. More for his sake than Nora’s, admittedly, you hated seeing the disappointment on his features. In an effort to cheer him up a bit, you add, “If it’s any consolation, I think Nora’s crazy for not going for you. She must be blind not to see how special of a guy you are, Steve.”

Steve’s head perks up at that and he glances across the car towards you, rushing heat to your face under his intense scrutiny, “I am not special.”

“What?” you scoff, glad you were at a stop light because you’re certain you would have reflexively hit the brakes to look towards him in that moment, “How can you say that? Look, I know I’ve only known you for a couple of months, but even I can see that you’re not like most other people around here. You’re sweet and thoughtful and, not to mention, handsome. Hell, if I was Nora, you sure wouldn’t be going home alone tonight.” Your eyes widen a fraction when you realize what just slipped out of your mouth, quickly shutting it and looking back to the road with embarrassment. The red light seems to last forever in the silence between you, until he finally speaks and you dare to glance back to him.

Even with the darkness of the highway, the streetlights catch the blush that scattered across his cheeks at your comment, beneath the shadow of the stubble there, “That means a lot, coming from you.”

“Coming from me?” you begin, brow furrowing in confusion as you struggle to breathe for a moment with how he was looking at you. His deep blue eyes seemed even darker somehow, but you were sure you were fooling yourself at the way he held your gaze. That couldn’t be desire you were seeing, but rather some trick of the light.

Steve clears his throat slightly awkwardly, glancing away momentarily simply to look right back to you after as his hands smoothed across his thighs as if to satiate the need to fidget, only serving to draw your eyes there and stir something far more carnal in you than before, “You of course know you are a beautiful woman.”

Were you hearing things now?

Swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobs and, when you catch his eye once more, you’re certain you aren’t mistaken with the mood that’s held within them. Your foot digs into the brake as you stare at him like a deer in the headlights, not knowing how to respond in that moment, and not quite realizing how you had leant slightly over the midsection of the car to allow him to easily surge forward and capture your lips with his own, his seat belt whirring with the sudden motion.

The kiss was barely a brush against your lips before he’s pulling away, catching himself from the impulsive action only for your hands to abandon the steering wheel entirely to reach for the crisp fabric of his white button-down and tug him right on back to where he had abandoned. He, funnily enough, still smelled of baby powder from his time spent babysitting Nora’s child, and you were certain this was the single time in your life that you would ever get turned on by the scent. There was a hint of the coffee beans that still clung to his clothes from his shift at the Gas-n-Sip, but beneath it all was something earthy in nature, almost like the woods after a fresh summer rain.

It was intoxicating, that base scent, and quickly consumed your lungs the more your lips crashed and ebbed against his own. Your breathing comes quicker the longer it lasts, and you swear he’s intent on stealing what little oxygen you had left. His lips were chapped in places, but were a welcome relief when compared to the dragging scratch of his stubble at your skin and the growing ache between your legs. Your fingers keep to his shirt, holding him against you as his hand slips up your neck to cup your jaw. You’re about to deepen the kiss when---

You jump away suddenly from each other at the angry honking of a car behind you, finally realizing the stop light was a valiant green and the road was no longer as empty as it had been when you’d lawfully stopped there.

“S-Sorry,” you jolt reflexively as you put the car back in motion, though you know the driver of the car behind you can’t hear your apology. Steve settles back into his seat, his ears flaring with the blush that even the night will no longer hide. When you glance to him, his gaze is just as fiery as a moment before, sending a shiver down your spine and confidence bursting forth from your throat when you ask, “Come back to my place?”

“Yes,” it’s an immediate answer as he shifts beside you in his seat, his hands once again clutching at his thighs, but this time you suspect it’s more in an effort to keep them to himself rather than nervously fidget.

Your breath is shaky as you grip the steering wheel tighter, trying to keep your own thoughts on the road rather than the man sitting beside you. That proves futile, however, when after a moment of tense silence you hear his seat belt click, coming undone. You glance his way right before his hand reaches your chin, moving your face back to focus on the road as his nose nudges against your neck.

“Eyes on the road,” it’s gruff, sending a shiver down your spine to pool excitement in your abdomen, your foot pressing just so slightly harder on the gas as you feel Steve’s heated breath against your skin before his lips press there. You gasp out, half in surprise at him and half in pleasure when he tugs at the collar of your shirt to send his open-mouthed kisses trailing along your shoulder. If he kept on, you weren’t so sure you’d make it home before you pulled off the road and jumped him right here.

“Steve,” you’re surprised you manage to sound as put-together as you do when his name comes tumbling from your mouth, only to followed by a moan when his tongue presses heatedly against your skin. If he kept this up, there would be marks tomorrow.

He releases you momentarily to correct, “Cas.”

“Huh?”

“Call me, ‘Cas,’” Steve urges.

You manage to smirk at the road, leaning into his every touch as his hand sends a gentle message where the base of your neck met your shoulders, “I thought you didn’t use that nickname anymore?” He doesn’t answer you, instead focusing on his work of greedily kissing along every inch of exposed skin at the side of your neck and shoulder exposed to him. Giving in, you whimper, “Oh, Cas,” when he finds a particularly sensitive area right above your collarbone.

You’re honestly surprised you didn’t wreck before making it back to your apartment with the way he’s distracting you. Roughly, you pull in and slam the gear shift into park, jerking Steve away from your neck slightly and causing a dissatisfied frown to erupt along his features.

“Come on,” it’s an order you send despite how enticing the idea was to just get him into the backseat and let him have his way. Steve’s following after you as you hop from the car, the beep of the lock hardly an echo in the back of your head as you find him hot on your heels, one of his hands meeting your hip in an effort to just touch some part of you.

When you unlock your front door, you turn the tables on him. Apparently to his surprise, you turn to push him against the door as soon as he shuts it upon entering your apartment. His back hits it, a shocked groan coming from him when your lips latch at his jaw, your payback for what he did in the car. You can feel his breathing pick up beneath the hand you smooth up his chest, a smirk forming on your lips as you enjoy the effect you were having on him. His hand comes, once more, to the back of your neck, tangling gently in your hair as if he weren’t sure he was allowed to migrate it elseward. After a moment, you feel him smooth it down your spine to rest at the small of your back, nearly in time with your lips trailing down the shadows of his throat.

The groan that comes from him when you slip your hand to the side of his jaw in order to pull him down into a searing kiss is positively erotic. As you nip at his bottom lip, suddenly his hands know exactly what to do, gripping at your hips to pull them flush against his own. A moan slips from your throat when you feel the hard press of the bulge in his jeans, instinctively slipping your leg up to allow him better access between your legs. Your fingers comb through his dark hair at the feeling, your slow grind against him has him making all kinds of little sounds that you eagerly swallow with your kiss.

With a great need for air, he tilts his head back just enough to breathe heavily against you, his closed eyes slipping open yet clearly lidded with lust, “Once, I could have controlled myself from these desires, but not anymore.”

You don’t have a clue what he’s talking about, but, God, if it didn’t sound sexy on his tongue, “Well, I don’t want you to hold back tonight, Cas.”

And that does it for him, because almost instantly he’s tugging just as eagerly at your clothes as you are at his. Your fingers fumble at first against the buttons of his shirt, but soon they give with quick succession to your effort to have him standing bare before you. The button of his pants pops easily enough, the zipper following in its undoing before you’ve pushed them down and he’s kicking them off, revealing the white boxers hidden beneath. He works a bit more unpracticed against your clothing, managing to rid you of your shirt by tugging it overhead and tugging down your skirt easily enough, but faltering at the clasp at your back until he uses his other hand to aid your bra’s removal with a two-handed maneuver, rather than the one-handed way he had initially figured was sufficient.

He pauses when your bra falls to the floor, eyes widening a fraction as he takes you in. You take the opportunity to push the shirt from shoulders that were far broader than they looked under that blue vest you always caught him in at work. You were stunned, honestly, at how muscular Steve was under all that clothing. When it falls to the ground to meet your bra in an unimportant heap, he reaches for you once more, only for you to step back teasingly and shoot him a devilish look.

You bite your lip around your dare, “You want me? Catch me.”

Under his surprised brow is a glint of a look behind his eyes that is almost dangerous and equally as enticed as you were.

All he manages is a questioning call of your name before you’re off, descending further into your apartment on light feet. He succumbs to the instinct to chase and before you know it you’re wrapped in strong arms right before you reach your bedroom, only to be slammed against the wall, giggles erupting from you before he smothers them with his lips.

There’s a lighthearted smile dancing over his face when he pulls back, gruffly stating, “Caught you.”

Breathlessly, you point to the partially closed door to your room, “Bedroom’s in there.” He nods and, with a face set in determination, bends slightly to grab at your thighs, forcing them to come up and around his waist. You let out a startled sound, not expecting him to attempt to lift you. Your arms find themselves around his shoulders as he presses your back against the door, pushing it open with your body and taking the few strides towards the bed before he tumbles the both of you upon it.

Your back hits the bed, knocking the wind out of you for a moment before you inhale yet again, a wonderful excitement rushing through you when his lips come crashing down to yours. A hand flat against his chest, you push him off to the side, enjoying watching his confusion melt into raw need when you climb atop him, straddling his hips. Your weight sits perfectly against him, a low gasp coming from him when you roll your hips against his. It’s so much better than before, with the two of you in only your underwear now, and you give another experimental grind that has his lips parting as a huff of air escapes them.

Bending over him, you drag your lips and tongue down the length of his chest in a trail ever south, determined for this to end with the discovery of just what was beneath those white boxers. He watched your every move in what you could only describe as a mixture of curiosity, apprehension, and carnal desire. You flick your eyes up to his seductively when you find yourself at his belly button, your hands tugging at the elastic keeping the offending piece of clothing hanging low on his hips.

He lifts his lower half for you, letting you tug them a little more before he’s kicking them off the bed. You are pleasantly surprised at the sight you get. He was a little larger than the men you’d been with before, but only so much as to have your mouth nearly watering at the prospect of him filling you so completely.

You don’t even realize it before you fulfill your compulsion to lick a stripe up the length of him, from the base to the head. At the groan he gives, you look up, finding him to be biting his bottom lip. Giving him a stroke, you take his head into your mouth, relaxing yourself as you press the pad of your tongue to any area you can as you take him deeply, pulling back with hollowed cheeks in a torturously slow manner. You relish in the next encouraging hum that rumbles in his chest, as if you were the first woman to give him a blowjob before. It makes you want to tease him a bit.

You breathe, hot and deliberate, over his tip, “Do you want me to keep going?”

With a glance to his face, you notice he’s closed his eyes, satisfaction surging through you that you were the cause, “Yes. Please, yes.” Steve nods a bit into the pillow before sending a pleading look down in your direction.

Holding back a grin, you set to work, sparing glances whenever you could at his face. He was a picture of pleasure, his brows set in a perpetual furrow as his parted mouth released sounds that went right to your core. Needing to sate yourself just as much, you find your hand that wasn’t working him over wanders between your thighs and into your panties, giving your clit practiced leisurely circles that in little time had you moaning around his cock. His hands fisted the sheets until that was no longer satisfactory enough, reaching to entangle his fingers in your hair when your hand returns to massage his balls as you take him particularly deep, nearly gagging around him before coming back up for air. Sweat had begun to bead on his skin, the room becoming too hot with your mixed body heat so close together.

“Oh, I--- there’s something---” he stumbles over his words and you take that as your cue to pull back, but his hips follow your mouth needily, a far too disappointed look on his face when you release him from your mouth. He was panting, teetering on the edge, and you honestly hadn’t ever had a man writhe beneath you like he just had. You let his breathing normalize as his hand relaxes in your hair, an unsatisfied tone to his voice, “Why did you stop?” Steve’s blue eyes search for an answer, watching you as you strip yourself of your panties before crawling back over him.

“Would you rather finish in my mouth, or in me?”

With a growl, he rolls you both so he’s on top once more, agreeing, “In you.” You whimper at the feeling of his length pressing near your entrance. With your hands finding either side of his face, you pull him down, needing to kiss him right then and there. His taste has the added salt from his sweat on his lips as they distract you from his hand moving between you until you feel his head sliding between your folds, teasing you with a directed thrust of his hips and allowing the ridges of his body to rub with just enough friction to leave you wanting more of him. You were wet for him and it only takes a few teasing grinds to have him coated in it, too.

“Steve,” you whisper between you, silently begging him to go ahead and give you what you both wanted.

“Wrong,” he grunts, and you quickly rectify your mistake.

“ _Cas_. I need you inside me,” you arch into him, letting your breasts press against the firmness of his chest as the pads of your fingers scrape down his back encouragingly. Giving him the most seductive look you can muster, you urge, “Please, Cas. Please---”

Your begging is silenced with the feeling of him slowly pressing into you, stretching you in all the right ways and completely making it impossible to breathe evenly with each inch of him entering you. The shuddering breaths you do manage are quite pathetic and laced with a constant ethereal neediness that can only be satisfied by the man above you. You clench around him as he bottoms out, getting a low groan from him in response as his eyes screw shut at the intense feeling of your body enveloping his. You can only manage his name, still begging for him to continue.

It feels longer than it takes for him to begin his thrusts, but when he does they come hard, quick, and as a distinct means to an end. You can’t bring yourself to care, needing release just as urgently as he did at this point. You curl your legs around his hips, using your calves to bring him back to you with each thrust in increased insistence. You were by no means quiet beneath him and, if you weren’t so selfish at the moment, you’d pity your neighbors, but all you could truly bring yourself to care about was the exact angle at which he was pistoning his hips to reach that spot within you that would have you curling your toes with pleasure. Your own sweat marks your skin as you bring a hand between the two of you to press at your clit, sending his thrusts off-rhythm with the way the stimulation has your inner walls clenching erratically around him.

Before you know it, white-hot pleasure rushes through you, sending you hurtling into an orgasm that you’ve needed for far too long. At a certain point, you think he started speaking some other language, but you weren’t too sure with the way your head was buzzing with your own orgasm. He lets out a few more desperate thrusts before you feel him spilling within you, a harsh shudder moving through him before he slams into you one last time, a deep moan passing his lips along with your name as he reaches the height of his pleasure.

You were all too acutely aware of how harshly your heart was pounding in your chest, your breathing just as labored as his when he pulls out of you before collapsing to the side considerately, but pulling your thighs with him to curl your body against his, not quite ready to let you go. You take a moment, trying to calm yourself from your aftermath before speaking.

He beats you to it with a sigh of, “Wow.”

“Hah,” a huff of a chuckle escapes you, agreeing, “I know right.”

“Did you,” a hint of hesitancy is at his tongue when he asks, “enjoy it?”

“Enjoy it?” you lean up in the bed to get a good look at him, the sight of his mussed hair and expectant eyes nearly readying you for round two instantly, “Steve--- Cas, you were amazing.”

There’s that blush again, as if he hadn’t just fucked you into the mattress enthusiastically moment before, “I enjoyed myself, too. What you did with your tongue was… skillful.”

You can’t help your giggle at that, leaning forward to urge a kiss that he meets you for, smiling against his mouth as you enjoy the leisure in it. Then, it hits you. You groan, pulling away.

“What is it?”

“I completely forgot about taking you back to the Gas-n-Sip to get that thing you said you needed,” you begin, on the verge of apologizing before he smiles back at you, pulling you back down into his arms once more.

“That can wait until tomorrow.”


End file.
